Glass Wands
by jeffysquint
Summary: He couldn't stop watching her. It didn't matter that she had rejected him in front of the bureau just a month ago. "Booth!" Her voice broke him out of his trance.   Snapshot after the 100th episode. K  for absolute safety, because I'm that paranoid.


This is a snapshot that gripped me a few hours ago. Shot a month after the 100th episode when Booth "gambled" and tried to give Brennan a chance, only to have her push him away.

Don't know why I started writing. I'll get back to Finding the Strength to Fall asap, promise, I've just been pretty sick and this is the first time I've really written anything in the last few weeks. So... yeah. Here you go.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones nor am I the lucky Hart Hanson who gets to string around these character's emotions and actions for fun.

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><p>He couldn't stop watching her. It didn't matter that she had rejected him in front of the bureau just a month ago. It didn't matter that she had basically taken his heart and stabbed it with one of those damn glass wands the squints always seemed to have around. He thinks that's what they're called. Those little glass sticks they used to mix everything in their beakers?<p>

The first day or two he thought that maybe it was more like she had used a scalpel. But here, now, the glass wand seemed to fit more. Like the dull tip of the wand, her rejection hadn't caused the pain to truly hit him that night. He had been numb to her dismissal and the way she had pushed him away. His mind had been mostly blank for a while, trying to comprehend what had happened after she broke away from their kiss.

But when he woke up the next day, the glass wand was pushing farther into his heart. It was like continuing to put pressure on a bruise. A never ending circle. You pushed, a bruise came into view. You never let up from that first push, so now you're pushing the damn thing into a bruise. Which creates a deeper bruise. A bruise that you continue to push upon.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back onto her couch. That metaphor had just gone a lot further than expected.

Looking up, his eyes once again flew back to her, studying her. He was still in love- that was for sure. And he could swear that ever since that night, she had been acting a little different too. After the shock wore off, she became clingier, almost as though she was scared he would leave her. She made sure to go out in the field with him as much as possible and was constantly asking what he was thinking. He had promised that they would still work together, and he was keeping that promise. But it was getting harder every day.

It hurt a little more each day. That wall that Sweets had talked about? The one that was supposed to break if they kissed? Well his was definitely broken. Yeah, he had known that she was different way back when they had first met. But this time had been different. This time his wall had crumbled, and now he was left standing in front of her wall, which, as far as he could see, was still very much in tact.

"Booth!" Her voice broke him out of his trance.

Shaking his head, he looked up to focus his eyes once again on her perfect frame. He realized that he must have not heard her the first few times she had called his name. She stood over him, scowling. But he knew that she wasn't really as mad as she was acting, just impatient, and that frown was just too cute. He smiled and her brows furrowed with impatience at his lack of seriousness.

"Booth! What are you smiling for?"

"I'm… just… smiling. Something wrong with that?"

"Would you focus, please?"

"I am focused!" His heart dropped when her tone changed and the look she was giving him wiped the grin off his face.

"Alright. Approximately two weeks ago, Andrew Phelps broke these three ribs, and fractured his right radius. Angela found the rib damage to be possibly inflicted by a blow to the mid-chest, probably by a large round object, and as for the wrist, the markers are consistent with trying to stop one's fall."

She paused, and that broke him out of yet another trance. He had been staring at her lips as she talked, not really comprehending anything that had been coming out of them.

"Booth!"

But he was already gone. He stood up fast, taking her face in both of his hands, and kissed her. He kissed her with everything he had been feeling. All of the stolen and not so stolen glances, all of the sleepless nights, all of the walls he had punched- he kissed her with everything. Her face felt so perfect and warm in his hands, and his right thumb circled the tender surface of her cheek.

Her hands dropped the file and he felt them settle, just like they had a month ago, open on his chest. His mind flickered back to that night, and his heart pounded harder, remembering how those beautiful hands on his chest had pushed him back mere seconds after she had placed them there.

Fear gripped him, but he didn't know how to stop now. What if she pushed him back again? His kiss became harder and his lips more desperate as one hand moved back until his fingers became intertwined with her soft brown curls, and the other fell to her waist. He knew she was kissing him back, for he could feel the heavenly pressure of her soft lips as they fought for control, but he had no idea how long this bliss would last.

It hurt so damn much.

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><p>(: It's... choppy I know. It was hastily done. But hopefully you liked it? Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Trust me, I know I suck. See you soon with <span>Finding<span>!


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